A Foreign Exchange
by EternusLemures
Summary: Draco knew that he had to go. They were coming for his blood. But was staying in a home with a Muggle, her grandparents, and a bloody house elf really going to save his life? He might well kill himself at this rate. DMxOC
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The War was over. It had ended well over a year ago, but to those who had been involved, no amount of time could dim the memories of the pain and absolute destruction that had terrorized the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There were still places in the earth and trees scarred beyond repair by terrible dark magic. The school, which had once been believed to be a sacred, untouchable realm, now spoke quietly of disaster and the very real horrors that had occurred there.

And yet, here they were sitting quietly in the carriages, staring up at dark spires and towers of their old school, reminiscing about the past, both good and bad, and they wondered silently if things would ever go back to how they once were.

Over this past summer, an invitation had been extended to all of those who left the school after or during the war, to come back and finish their education. For most of those students, the thought of returning to the school after the tragedies they had witnessed was too much and they had declined the invitation, instead choosing to finish their education from their homes. However, there were a number who chose to return, each for his or her own personal reasons.

In one of the carriages sat Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and Neville Longbottom. In another sat Ernie Macmillan, Ginny Weasley, Gregory Goyle, and Hannah Abbot. In the final carriage, Draco Malfoy sat by himself, watching curiously as Luna Lovegood tenderly stroked the bony spinal ridge of the thestral pulling her carriage. There wasn't a soul in the carriages that couldn't see the thestrals now.

Slowly, and without making any sound, the group began to empty the carriages, and stand in groups on the stairs. The thestrals took off as soon as the last carriage was empty, leaving them standing alone, glancing at each other warily. Suddenly, the doors to the school flung open, revealing a man, possibly in his late sixties, with a clean shaven face, short hair as white as a snow peak, and a tall, crooked, pointed hat. He was dressed in the robes of the Headmaster, though none of the ex-students recognized him.

The elderly man spread his arms wide and smiled, his eyes disappearing in the creases of his face. "Welcome back, young ones, I'm delighted that you've decided to return. My name is Phillipus Doors, though you may just call me Headmaster or Professor Doors." He turned and beckoned for them to follow. "Please, come inside," he said.

As they walked forward, Hermione leaned over to whisper to Harry. "Phillipus Doors was an Auror for the Ministry. I wonder why Professor McGonagall isn't the Headmistress?" Harry merely shrugged and stared forward quietly. Out of all the people in attendance, it was the hardest for him to return to the school, though he had missed it and his friends terribly.

The Great Hall was empty when the group entered, though it was midday and typically students would be at lunch at this time. The Headmaster motioned for them to sit at the ends of the tables nearest him as he conjured up a stool for himself. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leveling each teen before him with a penetrating stare.

"It is a well-known fact that Hogwarts is not the place it once was," he began somberly, "Many things have happened here that will never be forgotten, most especially by those who were participants. However, as you know, the Ministry of Magic still seeks to continue the education of bright young witches and wizards in this country, as well as maintaining foreign relations with other communities around the world. You nine are going to be given an option this year that will not be extended to any other students now or after you-"

Professor Doors paused as the door to the Great Hall opened once again and Professor McGonagall came striding in, smiling very slightly at all of the students before her. She nodded to the Headmaster and said in greeting, "How are you Phillipus?"

He nodded back, "Quite well Minerva. I was just about to tell the students of the offer that the Ministry has given them." She nodded in understanding, conjured herself a chair and sat next to him.

He turned back to the group of students who were now watching them in silent curiosity. "As I was saying, the Ministry has deemed it fitting to give you nine the opportunity to experience something that no other student will experience in your year or afterwards. This project is entirely experimental, and depending on how well it goes, the Ministry will consider creating a new program designed specifically for letting young witches and wizards experience a world unlike any they have seen before."

Doors looked around the small group with a critical eye. Between students, there were looks of nervous excitement exchanged. He could almost hear the deafening babble of questions in their heads.

A hand shot up in the air. He smiled knowingly, "Miss Granger?"

"I'm sorry Headmaster, but I don't understand. What exactly is this program? What are we being offered?"

The elderly man's smile widened considerably. "Why, Miss Granger, you are all being invited to participate in a coeducational foreign exchange program."

Immediately, whispers erupted among the group. Whether it was about the program itself, or the fact that those who participated would be staying with members of the opposite gender, was unclear. But there was excitement in their whispering, and McGonagall and Doors exchanged a knowing look before the Headmaster cleared his throat conspicuously. The noise died down.

McGonagall stood up and addressed the group. "Participation in this event is entirely optional, and, as such, will require that the participants have had a history of merit and can display a certain degree of intelligence and diplomacy. You will be acting as representatives from our school, and as such, you will be expected to behave accordingly."

Goyle spoke up, resulting in surprised looks from all of the students present. "So, you mean we can't all go, then?"

McGonagall's mouth thinned to a grim line as she said, "That is correct, Mr. Goyle."

Hermione's hand shot up again. "Professor, what will we be expected to do while in the program?" McGonagall smiled at her. Hermione had always been her favorite student in her year. She had been delighted to hear that the bright-eyed brunette had been one of those to accept the invitation to return.

"As students, you will of course be expected to continue your education as per the curriculum that Hogwarts has assigned you as well as that assigned by the school you will be attending with the student in your foster home. Yes, Mr. Malfoy, that does mean twice as much homework," she gave Draco a pointed look and he made an unhappy face.

Headmaster Doors spoke up again, "You and the student you will be staying with will also be expected to send weekly owls about your progress, both in your studies, and in your assimilation of the culture. If you do choose to become a part of this program, it will be for the entire year. The first half will be spent at their home, and the second half, from Christmas time forward, will be spent here in Hogwarts." He and Minerva exchanged an undecipherable look.

McGonagall was speaking again. "If you do wish to participate in this program, you need only leave your name with myself or Headmaster Doors. If you meet all of the qualifications, you will receive an owl that has a list of all of the things that you will need, along with the name of the family and location you will be staying at. I would highly recommend that you do some research about the climates in these areas, as you may have to alter your wardrobe in order to be comfortable," she surveyed the small group again, "Does anyone have any questions at present?"

Some shook their heads, others whispered among themselves. Draco Malfoy, sitting by himself, stared off into space, a somber expression on his face.

"You all have ten days to make your final decisions as to whether or not you wish to be a part of this program. On the tenth day, the owls will be sent, and those participating will be required to attend an informational meeting. Are there any questions?" McGonagall looked at all of the faces in the small group, meeting each person's eyes individually. There was nervous excitement, boredom, and mild trepidation mixed into the group but everyone seemed to understand the basic concepts of the program.

With a curt nod, they were dismissed to their dormitories.

Almost immediately, those who wanted to participate in the foreign exchange program sent an owl to either Professor McGonagall or Headmaster Doors. The only one who hadn't sent his final decision was Draco Malfoy. Hermione and Harry had both been immediately accepted into the program, Luna Lovegood, despite her airheaded nature, had made the grades to be accepted. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot hadn't quite made the grade cut, and Gregory Goyle's history of troublesome behavior had immediately ousted him. Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley had both opted to stay at the school, in order to finish their Hogwarts careers with the friends they had made well over a year ago. The two of them agreed that the last thing they needed was for something to go horribly wrong in a completely different country.

A week went by and still no word had been sent from the final potential participant.

McGonagall kept a close eye on him as he walked through the halls in an apparent daze. He dodged dirty looks and sneers from the other students in the school. "Death Eater." "Murderer." "Traitor." The names and jibes went on. She spoke to a few of the other teachers, who had agreed that when they even saw him in class, he sat alone and was always on the receiving end of nasty comments. He would often get up and leave without a word and without a backward glance.

Professor McGonagall had expected as much. No one could be the child of a Death Eater, with the dark mark still tattooed across his arm, and not expect to receive hell and damnation from those who had suffered losses from the very killers who bore the same mark.

Nine days after the group had returned to Hogwarts, an owl landed on the desk of her Transfiguration classroom, interrupting her lecture and scattering rolls of parchment all across the floor. Scrawled across the page in a cramped, rushed hand, was:

_Minerva,_

_Come to my office immediately. Bring Mr. Malfoy. It's a dire emergency._

_Phillipus Doors, Headmaster_

Less than an hour later, Minerva McGonagall was hustling down the corridor that lead to the Headmaster's office, with a disgruntled Draco Malfoy in tow. As she reached the great golden gargoyle, she barked out, "Pumpkin Pasties!" The spiral staircase immediately began moving upward like an escalator. She beckoned Malfoy forward with one hand, and hopped on a few steps below his place on the moving stairwell.

Draco was muttering to himself under his breath about "deranged old bats" when the stairwell stopped spinning and the gargoyle sat back on its haunches, allowing them entry into the Headmaster's office. He took a step forward into the room, prompted by McGonagall's harried push. He almost wanted to snap at her not to touch him, but held his tongue. He'd become very talented at that particular skill over the last week. He instead chose to glare and step to the side, allowing her entry without putting himself out into the center of the room.

As expected, Headmaster Doors was sitting at the great redwood desk, hands folded in a bridge, a pensive look on his face.

"Headmaster," McGonagall breathed. She had run all the way to the dungeons to get Draco and then practically dragged him all the way back to the golden gargoyle. "You wished to see us immediately?"

"Please sit, Minerva, Draco." His tone was grave and slightly worried. It wasn't at all like the confident, wise voice that Draco remembered from Headmaster Dumbledore. He found that that fact irked him quite a bit. He tried to ignore the vein of guilt that creeped into his gut. Though he hadn't been the one to cast the curse, for which he'd been punished severely, he had allowed the opportunity for it to happen. He had made it necessary for his godfather to commit the crime. He may as well have been holding the murdering wand for them both.

McGonagall conjured two seats and sat down quickly. Ever since Professor Dumbledore had begun telling her the truth of the happenings of Miss Granger and Misters Potter and Weasley, she had developed a sort of automatic anxiety, anytime anyone used the words "dire" or "emergency" around her. And here, the new Headmaster of Hogwarts had summoned her and the young man at her side using both words in the same sentence.

She felt as if she were going to have a heart attack.

Draco sat down considerably more slowly. He also felt a weird sort of apprehension at being summoned without warning or provocation to the Headmaster's office. But it felt like there was something more about to happen, something very dangerous. Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the elderly man and waited for him to tell them why he'd been summoned.

Instead, he asked, "Have either of you read the Daily Prophet this morning?"

Minerva frowned and shook her head, clearly not understanding. Draco jerked his head once as a 'no'.

Professor Doors heaved a huge sigh and threw a copy from his desk to either of them. "Read the front page."

Draco didn't need to. In the very center of the print, in black and white, his father smirked up at him, with a look of vicious triumph on his face. The bolded headline read "Death Eaters Escaped! The Wizarding World is No Longer Safe!" He skimmed over the article. No one knew how he had escaped but Lucius, along with six other Death Eaters and followers of the deceased Dark Lord had broken out of the island prison, slaughtering two Azkaban guards and one dementor in their flight.

Draco swallowed hard. His father's last words to him rang in his ears.

_"I'll find you! I'll find you, Draco. Then you and your mother will pay for this treachery with your lives!"_

McGonagall gasped as she read the article and clutched her chest. The anxiety built and poured through her body like water from a broken dam. Her hands shook. "What should we do, Phillipus? We can't leave Narcissa and Draco out in the open. Surely Lucius will…"

She trailed off and Draco didn't know whether it was to spare his feelings, or because she was afraid to utter the truth out loud. Even though she was head of the Gryffindor House, Draco had always rather respected the aged woman beside him and now he appreciated her worry and fear on his behalf. It was unexpected and a relief to see that in the wizarding world, there was still someone alive who didn't hate him with all of the passion in their soul.

Headmaster Doors' frown deepened. "Yes, Minerva, I have considered this. But I am prepared." He watched them both very carefully before speaking.

"Before the previous Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, died, he wrote out a will. This will was to be given to whomever the next Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts should be. No other but that person would be permitted to even open the envelope, nevertheless read its contents. Enclosed in this envelope were many secrets, thus making the reader, me, the new Secret Keeper. Some secrets were about the school, some were about people, and some were about different places all around the world.

"One of these Secret places is a safe house, which only those residing in it know about. The people may come and go as they please, but once they step foot on the property, their presence is erased entirely. They are undetectable by any of the human senses, magic, or any magical artifact. They cannot be found unless one of the Secret Keepers tells of the location or the people in it.

"Until we can get this sorted out, or until your father and his cohorts are captured again, you will have to reside in that home. And as this home is not in England, you, Draco Malfoy, are going to be a part of the foreign exchange program."

Draco stared at him, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to run and hide like a coward from his father. He didn't want to be trapped inside a home somewhere in another country where he may not speak the language or be able to get along with the natives. But his greatest concern was not about himself.

Finally, he spoke up, "What about my mother?"

"Your mother has found a similar location and was relocated as of last night. The only reason you were not immediately informed was by her request that we find another place for you to stay as soon as possible." The Headmaster closed his eyes tiredly, as if he had spent a very long time trying to find a suitable place to put Draco.

"As such, we have assured her that this home is absolutely the safest place for you to go. It is the least likely place for any Death Eater, your father or otherwise, to seek you out. Also, only Professor McGonagall and I will know of the location until further notice, so please do not share this information with any of your classmates or anyone else."

Draco grimaced. There wasn't any person in this entire school that he would trust with information about his safety. Even Goyle jeered at him for turning his back against the Dark Lord when no one else was around. "But why the foreign exchange program? What good will it do to keep my location a secret if everyone in the Ministry will be able to look up my location should they decide to get curious?"

Headmaster Doors replied, "The foreign exchange program will merely be a disguise for why you are leaving the school on such short notice. The names and address that will be filed as your location are fabricated. Should any person try to go snooping through those particular files, they'll find nothing but an empty house in a long-untended field in the wrong country."

Ever in tenuous control of his emotions, Draco merely raised an eyebrow in shock. "How and when will I get there?"

"As none of the students who returned this year ever took or passed their final exams, you all will be Side-Along Apparated to your locations. You will leave tomorrow evening, after attending the seminar with Mr. Potter, Miss Granger and Miss Lovegood. Immediately after the seminar, you will be given time to pack your belongings and make any modifications to your wardrobe that are necessary. It is of the utmost importance, Mr. Malfoy, that you make every appearance to be participating in this foreign exchange program legitimately. Do you understand?"

Draco Malfoy's throat was very dry. He couldn't speak, so he nodded. He was afraid of his father. He knew firsthand that Lucius Malfoy was a remorseless bastard with virtually no familial or friendly ties beyond those that benefitted him. Any and all others would be Avada'd before they ever had the chance to scurry out of his path.

And Lucius Malfoy wanted very much to kill his son and wife in the most painful way possible. And now he had escaped his cell in Azkaban. And he was bound to be hunting them.

Draco could feel the fear that had gone with the War creeping up his spine, cold as a dead man's hand. It gripped the back of his neck and held him rigid as the piercing ice pooled in his stomach and seeped into his bones.

Seeing that Draco would make no further comment, Professor Doors gave McGonagall a commanding look, though he was speaking to the boy. "Rest your eyes tonight, young Malfoy. Tomorrow will be a big day for you. You will receive your letter of location in the morning. You are not to let any other person see or hear of it. The seminar will begin promptly at ten o'clock AM in the second dungeon room, the old Potions classroom. Minerva, if you would please?"

McGonagall, who had been silent throughout the entire session, now hopped to her feet, pulling the quiet young man along behind her once again. This time, however, she walked much slower as she led Draco back down to the dungeons.

Draco felt as if he were walking to the gallows.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The next morning, Draco was awoken by the sound of finely sharpened nails across the fogged glass of his window. He rolled out of bed, trudged to the window, and lifted the brass latch. The others who slept in the same dormitory as him, Gregory Goyle included, continued to sleep soundly, even as the dark eagle owl swooped into the room and landed with a light thud on the back of one of the chairs. There was a scroll attached to the bird's leg by a piece of tied red chord.

Already aware of what it was, Malfoy pulled the parchment from the bird's leg, stroking it absent-mindedly as he sat on the arm of the plush green velvet chair. He unrolled the scroll and looked curiously at the address.

He was going to the States, to a home by the name of Rain Oak Vale. Judging by the name of the place, he assumed it would be very wet and very cold. His mouth thinned to a grim line as he thought of the weeks to come in a rain-drenched land. _'At least'_ he thought_, 'we'll speak the same language.'_

He glanced at a clock that sat on his bedside table. It was only eight AM. He dressed in black robes, with the Slytherin insignia embroidered on the left-side breast and went down to the Great Hall for an early breakfast. When he arrived, there were only a few students eating but those at the Slytherin table promptly got up and moved down to the opposite from where he was sitting. He ground his teeth and rubbed his left forearm self-consciously but said nothing.

As soon as he sat down, his goblet filled with pumpkin juice and his plate with a hearty breakfast of pancakes, sausages, eggs, and some fruit he didn't recognize. He ate slowly, avoiding the fruit and the eyes he could feel burning into his skin, as they did every day. He rubbed his arm again. To his left, that day's issue of the Daily Prophet materialized and, grasping for anything to distract himself from the hateful stares, he picked it up and flipped through the pages, not really reading.

Then, he came across an article about four unexplained Muggle deaths outside of London. He really didn't care about Muggles. They could all die and rot for all he cared. Filthy animals. But something about the descriptions of the position the bodies were found in – all facing each other on their knees, hands clasped, as if in prayer.

It was his father's favorite way to kill people. His father fancied himself an "artist of the grotesque" as he had once said to Draco, when he was much younger. He wanted people to think about their deaths and beg for mercy before he killed them. He wanted whoever found that person to think of the afterlife when they saw a person who appeared to be murdered in prayer.

The hair on the back of Draco's neck stood on end and he closed the paper and threw it away from him. Suddenly, the clock tower outside clanged fifteen 'til ten. The abrupt noise made him jump, causing a few of his silent tormentors to snicker and grin at him. Oh, how he loathed them all.

He stood, pulling his robe tighter around him and exited the Great Hall. As he was walking out, he almost ran into a girl with her dark hair pulled back into a single plait that fell halfway down her back.

"Oh pardon me, Murderer," she sneered, shoving roughly past him and into the Hall.

Draco took a deep breath and walked forward, as if she'd never been there. He didn't let it out until he reached the door to Snape's old Potions room some ten minutes later. There was a kind of twinging ache in his chest as he pushed the door open, knowing that his once favorite teacher would not be on the other side, glaring at the Gryffindors and patting halfwit Slytherins on the back as they toiled away over smoking cauldrons.

He was surprised to see that he was the last of the four students to be there, seeing as he was early. He should have known that goody-two-shoes Granger would probably want to get there extra early to take notes or some nonsense. And her ever-faithful companion, Save-the-Day Hero Potter, would of course be right with her. The two of them sat at the table on the left hand side of the room, closest to the front. To the right sat the sleepy-eyed blonde Looney Luna Lovegood. She was fiddling with a reddish-orange turnip on a chain around her neck and looking around as if she'd never seen the place before in her life.

Professors McGonagall and Doors stood at the front, black board to their right, facing the four. Professor Doors looked up at him and grinned, again losing his eyes in the deep lines of his face. "Please, Mr. Malfoy, you're right on time! Take a seat next to Miss Lovegood and we'll begin."

Draco squeezed into the desk, sitting as far away from the blonde as physically possible while still remaining fully on the bench.

"Now," Doors said in an overly chipper voice, "Let us begin! I assume you all received your letters about the location of your new foster homes?" When all four students nodded in the affirmative, he continued, "Very good! To begin, all of your foster families will be perfectly able to speak English so communication should be rather simple. But it will be expected that you learn as much of the language and culture as is possible while you are there. Remember you will be a guest in their homes, and you are to show them the proper respect as such."

So far, all of the students but Malfoy were nodding in agreement. He didn't feel like this actually pertained to him as he was only supposed to be pretending to participate in this foreign exchange program. However, in order to have the Professors just get on with their nonsense, he nodded along as well.

"In each foster family, there is one student, who you will attend all pertaining social events with. These social events included special events, holidays, and going to school. You will be required to sit in on all of that student's courses, and you will be given a special permit to use magic outside of the Hogwarts grounds. It is highly recommended that you keep this permit on you at all times as it has a charm on it that will prevent you from using any forms of magic otherwise."

Granger seemed particularly upset about the holidays and Potter showed only a small amount of ire about the permits for magic. Lovegood was staring at the debris floating in the air as if mesmerized, and mumbling about Dust Skips.

"As mentioned before, you, the student you are staying with, and the family of the student will each be required to send a weekly letter by owl to Hogwarts, in order to provide an update on your status, wellbeing, and any interesting events or challenges that you may encounter while living there. All of the students are around your age, so there should be few problems with the level of maturity and understanding between you.

It is the greatest hope of this school and the Ministry that you represent us well and make friends and social ties that will benefit you all throughout your lives. Most importantly, however, is that you have fun!" At this, Professor Doors threw his hands up and Professor McGonagall cracked a smile. Lovegood, Potter, and Granger all smiled in return. Malfoy rolled his eyes. This conversation _definitely_ did not pertain to him. He was to be in hiding from his murderous father. How was he supposed to have _fun_ for Merlin's sake!

It was McGonagall's turn to speak. "Now, please come up and get your licenses and the pamphlet of information about your foster families. They are just basic demographics, nothing too detailed. The idea is for you to get to know your foster family and establish relationships on your own. The pamphlet will also contain a list of recommended attire in accordance to the season. The students that you are to be paired with were chosen from a list of available and willing families based on personality profiles they filled out. The idea was to best match the families to someone you would be likely to get along with rather than someone who would rub you the wrong way from the start. The families have been given a similar profile of you."

She nodded to the Headmaster to signal that she was finished. All four students had their profiles, demographics, and licenses. The licenses were just blank white cards of heavy parchment.

"Now then," chirped the Headmaster, "with your wands, I want you to tap your permits and say _Licentio_." The four did as they were told and watched in shock as their name, age, birthdate, and height appeared on the right-hand side of the card, while on the left was a full-color moving picture of themselves. Draco's picture stared at him with a bored expression before quirking an eyebrow, as if in challenge.

"And if you are all ready, please return to your dormitories, pack what you will need, and want to carry with you – pets, brooms, etc, and return to this room within three hours. You will all be Side-Along Apparated to your destinations."

Three hours had passed. It was nearly one thirty PM and Draco Malfoy was the last of the four standing in the room. His trunk was propped next to him against the desk he had been sitting at earlier with Lovegood, and his owl screeched from the rafters overhead. McGonagall eyed the bird warily while they waited for Professor Doors to come back from depositing Hermione Granger somewhere in the Mediterranean.

"Hermes won't bite you," Draco muttered distractedly, trying to keep his mind from the very real possibility of seeing his father again. "He's a prat of a bird who will do everything in his power to annoy you, and make you damn well want to throw a rock at him, but he won't bite you." As if in response to this, the eagle owl moved along the rafters until he was right above Draco's head and began ruffling his feathers and screeching down at him.

Professor McGonagall didn't look like she quite believed him. A moment later, there was a loud pop and Headmaster Doors appeared before them again. He turned to Professor McGonagall and said, "I dare say that she was very pleased with Italy, Minerva. And I dare say that Michelo, her student partner, was quite pleased with her. The two immediately started babbling about ancient ruins and runes and expeditions. It was quite enthralling."

Then he turned to Draco and grinned again. The old man's smile was starting to creep Draco out just a bit. It made him feel like there was a terrible secret joke, and he was the punchline. Every time that Doors looked at him, Draco swore that he was giggling like a child inside.

"Are you ready, Draco?"

The teenager nodded and walked forward, ready to take the Headmaster's arm, though he could well Apparate on his own. As far as Draco was concerned, though, neither of the adults in the room needed to know that.

"Wait. I had my reasons for keeping you here the longest. Because of your… _circumstances, _I decided that it may be necessary for you to have a companion." He turned and snapped his fingers. Immediately, a little female house elf appeared. Dressed in what appeared to be a child's worn purple dress, the little elf had her hair back in two little plaits. She stepped forward and bowed to Draco.

In a high, sweet little voice, she chirped, "My name is Sunny, Master Draco. Sunny hopes she can assist in any way on Master's trip." She looked at Headmaster Doors as if wondering if she did well in her introduction. When he nodded, she smiled brightly and took a step back again.

Draco turned back to the Headmaster and quirked an eyebrow, much in the same fashion as his photo had done to him earlier. "I'm bringing a House Elf with me? Why? Won't it be likely that this family has one of their own? Most wizarding families do."

Again, Professor Doors smiled that creepy, knowing smile and said simply, "No, Mr. Malfoy, I'm afraid that this particular family has not ever had a House Elf. However, in order to assist you in your adjustment to your new surroundings, Sunny here will be joining you. She is very much a free elf, thanks to the endeavors of Miss Granger's S.P.E.W. campaign. However, she has expressed a willingness to help in any way possible."

Again, Sunny beamed up at him but Draco frowned. What kind of family didn't have a House Elf? Of course, the Weasleys hadn't had one, but who expected that sorry excuse of a pure-blooded family to have anything other than children?

Finally he shrugged and said simply, "Nice to meet you, Sunny."

The little elf squeaked in delight and ran to his trunk. With a single touch, the trunk had shrunken to the size of her palm and she carried it happily up to Draco and stood beside him expectantly.

The Headmaster chuckled to himself a bit before he reached over and grabbed Draco's arm in one hand and Sunny's hand in the other. Then, Draco felt a pulling, sucking feeling at his navel and the world spun quickly. He felt compressed, then stretched, then twisted around and 'pop!' he was standing before a large open field, backed by heavy-branched live oaks. The air was heavy and unexpectedly warm. Somewhere in the distance, an insect of some sort buzzed happily away, filling the early morning with sounds like a reed instrument.

"What time is it here," Draco asked suddenly.

"It is approximately seven thirty AM, Mr. Malfoy, and I believe your foster family may be preparing breakfast should you desire something to eat."

Draco took a deep breath. He could smell dew and dirt and green things, but he didn't smell any cooking. He wondered if the house was somewhere beyond the clearing, hidden by the dense trees. The Headmaster began walking slowly into the field but he didn't follow.

"Professor?"

The Headmaster turned to look at him curiously, before the light of realization brightened his eyes once more. "I am quite sorry, Mr. Malfoy, come right over here, please." Malfoy obeyed. "I would like to present to you Rain Oak Vale, home of the Matthews family." Almost instantly, a two-story wooden cabin appeared at the far side of the clearing, some fifteen yards away. Smoke rolled out of a cheery little brick chimney on the right side of the house, and there was light and movement beyond the lace-curtained windows. The gargantuan live oaks twisted and curved around the back of the house, not touching it, but surrounding it like a lover's embrace.

Again, the Headmaster strode towards the home, this time with Draco following closely behind him. Draco took another deep breath and this time could smell the syrup on the air with the scent of bacon and baking bread. Once they reached the door, the Headmaster reached up and knocked sharply on the weathered wood.

Out of curiosity, Draco asked, "Professor, do most wizarding families across the world eat the same foods? I mean, does this one have the same general foods as we do?" Draco didn't know if he could stomach something completely foreign but the scents on the early morning air were positively delicious.

But then Professor Doors look at him and said something that took Draco's appetite away immediately.

"Dear, boy, you're not staying with a wizarding family."

Draco didn't think he'd heard right. "W-what?"

That creepy smile returned once more and Draco could have sworn he felt his stomach wrench. "Mr. Malfoy, you're going to be staying with Muggles!"

The door opened just then and Draco prayed to all the Gods and Goddesses above to kill him where he stood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Draco Malfoy swore he could hear the Gods laughing.

It made complete sense, this did. He had gone to the Dark Side of the wizarding world, had served under the most feared magical being in wizarding history, and though he'd never taken a life personally, he had facilitated the deaths of countless beings - Magical and Muggle, friend and foe. The Dark Mark still graced his arm; an emblem that no means of removal could erase.

He wished that he had read the informational pamphlet instead of using it to line his owl's cage. He wished that the quirky Headmaster merely had a sick sense of humor and soon enough, he'd let Draco in on his little joke(this he was still holding out for). More than anything, though, he wished that the bug-infested, swampy ground would open up under his feet and swallow him whole, pulling him straight to Hell, instead of holding him in this proverbial Limbo.

He would have to play nice with Muggles, _depend_ upon them for his safety. For his _life_.

He didn't realize he had squeezed his eyes shut in dread until he heard the silence before a tinkle of bell-like laughter.

"Monsieur Doors! How long it's been! Come in, come in, this must be young Master Malfoy!"

When he opened his eyes, Professor Doors was watching him expectantly, standing within the doorway. Beyond him was the back of a short, plump woman, dressed in a sun-yellow frock. Her mouse brown hair, shot through with gray and tied in a simple knot at the nape of her neck, disappeared around a corner.

As if his feet were wrapped in chains, Draco moved into the house. His legs twitched in a familiar response. It was fight or flight, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he wouldn't be able to flee from this place, that he didn't even know where he was. Even so, his muscles tingled and jumped with every step, and he had to clench his jaw until it creaked from the stress just so that he wouldn't turn and bolt out the door.

The door closed behind him with the sound of a tomb being sealed.

The smells of breakfast stirred the air from his left, where a small kitchen sat empty. Where before they had excited the empty rumble in his stomach, he felt his abdomen clench sickeningly. Suddenly, there was a small tug at his cloak, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Whirling on the spot, he looked down and saw the over-large eyes and broad, bat-like ears of his companion.

Sunny stared up at him with concern. "Is Master Malfoy feeling well?" she stage-whispered. Relief struck him like a bolt of lightning. At least he wouldn't be alone in this Hell-hole. He wouldn't be the only magical creature. He swallowed around the feeling of sand in his throat, and nodded, not trusting his voice to keep his dread a secret.

They rounded the corner of the dim entryway. It opened up into a wide room, lined on the far wall by a single, broad bay window. Beyond the glass was a shaded glade of a deeper green than any ink or dye Draco had ever seen. Jewel-toned dragonflies hovered over the crystalline surface of a large pond, and beams of light cut through the dense oaks in patterns that reminded him of a time when he'd seen faeries dance during Solstice. Beyond the trees on the far side of the pond, he caught a glimpse of a doe and her young fawn moving amongst the mottled trunks.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The bell-like voice tinkled across the room so softly, that he barely registered the sound. Her voice was melodious, but she pronounced words slowly and with an odd intonation, as if she had some difficulty pronouncing the sounds.

Upon examination, Draco decided that the woman before him was distinctly plain, with mud brown eyes set wide apart in a round face, lined with age and laughter. There was a distinct intelligence in her eyes, though. It was as if, behind her simple smile, she was assessing every movement, every word, of every person in the room. It made him uncomfortable to say the least.

Even so, Muggle or not, his mother had taught him better than to deliberately disrespect an elderly person. They were old, wrinkly, ornery, and had a constantly lingering scent like dust and formaldehyde.

_They have a taxing enough time just getting out of bed every day, _his mother's curt voice chimed in his head, _They don't need rude children adding to their duress._

So Draco smirked his award-winning, I'm-a-Good-Kid smirk and nodded curtly before surveying the rest of the room.

The place was near immaculate, though obviously lived in. The room had been done in warm colors, complimenting the woodwork of the house nicely. A wide, brown leather sofa sat in the middle of the room, splitting it in half. It had a sunken place at one end next to a lamp on a round wooden table, as if that spot was frequented more often than the rest of the cushions. There were two other chairs in the room that matched the sofa in color and apparent use, all angled towards a wide black box set into the wall. The box itself had various buttons and holes in different sizes and colors, but otherwise seemed to have no purpose than to collect dust, which it did quite well.

As he glanced around, the edge of anxiety eased away from his bones, to be replaced by a low-burning curiosity about his surroundings. Only a hair above that was a growing sense of disgust.

Underfoot was a threadbare carpet, worn soft and frayed from years of endless treading. Looking at it, Draco couldn't decide what color it had been originally. It seemed covered in a distressed tone of gray. On the walls were numerous pictures, many of which were of a girl with a wide, snaggle-toothed grin, and glasses too large for her face. Draco sneered at the apparent idolization of the child.

_Pathetic, _he thought idly_._

There was one photograph that appeared to be of a bird of some kind, backlit by the sun and a clear-blue sky. However, Draco's attention could only be held for so long by an image that didn't even move.

_How heathen are these Muggles, really? Living in dirt and filth, without something even as interesting as a portrait to distract themselves from the tedium..._

Draco had mostly tuned out the idle chatter between the Grandmotherly woman, whose name was Ann, or Anna, or something to that effect, and the conniving Headmaster. Behind him, to the right of the entry to the living room, there was a narrow stairwell and a closed door. He had passed them without much thought. Now, however, his attention was turned upwards, where it sounded as if a herd of Hippogriffs stampeded around above them, screeching and slamming against the walls. The force of the clamor shook the closed door on its hinges.

The noise was giving Draco a headache. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, with the hope that he could will away the migraine blooming there. A door slammed somewhere amidst the abysmal racket and it sounded as if the Hippogriffs were fighting their way down the stairs.

"_Granmere!" _the voice was obviously female, tone raised high in panic, though the words were unfamiliar, _"Il y a un problème en haut!"_ Suddenly, the sound stopped, though there was still a far-away screeching above them.

Draco sighed internally, turning to face what was sure to be his horrifically Muggle housemate.

He wasn't disappointed.

The girl had apparently rushed down without much thought to her appearance. She was dressed in some strange pair of dark brown slacks that were covered in zippered pockets and a sleeveless shirt with a golden tribal design emblazoned down the left side. She was barefoot, sweaty, and her hair flared out in a tangled mess of braids and waves. Her face, however, was closed off from emotion. The only telling sign of her surprise at having visitors were too wide eyes and a pallor to her otherwise bronzed skin that seemed unnatural. Her chest heaved slightly from exertion.

Had she been a witch of standing and class, rather than a roguishly clad Muggle, Draco assumed that she could have been decently attractive, though only decently. She had wide, mud brown eyes that Draco could only assume were a familial trait, and a bar-straight, wide nose that was far from the petite perfection of the high-class socialites he mingled with at his mother's dinner parties. Her lips were pulled thin in poorly hidden distress. Her whole face, though, had a kind of roundness about it that softened the edges of her eyes and the sharp line of the nose. However, she _was_ and indecently dressed Muggle with wild hair that could rival the Mudblood's tangled mess, and a standoffish attitude that was quickly getting on Draco's nerves.

"Marie, _ma petite_, English, please. Our guests have arrived," the grandmotherly woman chided softly. There was a barely detectable edge to her voice, though, that caused Draco to wonder at the relationship between the two women.

_Bloody brilliant,_ he griped mentally_, I'm stuck in another country, dealing with two Muggle females having a family feud! This just get better and better._

"Gran-" the girl, Marie, began again. She winced as the screeching continued upstairs.

"It can wait. Marie, this is Phillipus Doors, Headmaster of Hogwarts," Marie nodded her head in greeting and gave the Professor a strained smile, "and-"

"Gran," the girl interrupted again, this time letting the anxiety slip into her voice, "There's a problem upstairs. Artemis-"

"It can wait!" Ann, or Anna, snapped, her calm manner momentarily ruffled. Marie shut her mouth with an audible click, but there was a low burning in her eyes and a flush high in her cheeks.

Draco smirked, liking the old woman for the first time since he'd entered the house. The embarrassment of the girl really was amusing. Perhaps their apparent animosity wouldn't be so taxing, after all.

_Serves her right, noisome chit._

"Gran," as the girl called her, scowled for a moment before continuing, puffed up like a ruffled old owl. "And _this_," she said as if trying to assert the importance of the introduction to her granddaughter, "is Draco Malfoy. He will be our guest here for the duration."

Draco narrowed his eyes at the thinly veiled disgust on his housemate's face. He swore he heard her mutter something akin to, _"For the duration, pfft" _under her breath. Gran ignored her and turned to them smiling.

"Gentlemen, this is my granddaughter, Marie Laveau Matthews. Though she seems to have forgotten her manners at present, she's really a lovely girl." From the corner of his eye, Draco saw the girl grimace. His smirk only grew wider.

"Now, _ma petite,_ what is happening upstairs?"

"_Someone's_," with this Marie sent Draco a pointed glare that made his blood boil. What right did she as a lesser being think that she had to look upon his person with such disdain? To think that _she_ could look down on _him!_ It made him want to hex her into the next century. But she was still talking.

"-owl has found his way into Artemis's roost, eaten all of her food, and is trying to attack Rodeur under my bed. I'm already about to chuck a rock at it, but if that _freakin' bird_ hurts my cat, I'm going to strangle it with a shoelace!" The girl, seemingly done with her childish tirade, folded her arms over her chest and huffed. Draco grinned when he recalled what he'd told Professor McGonagall that very morning about Hermes, but his amusement ceased when he heard the threat against his owl's life.

He didn't have much time to think about it, though, as the sound of a crash and splintering glass echoed down the stairwell. The girl, who'd been steaming on her own, waiting for a reaction, turned at the sound, eyes widened, before she bolted back up the stairs.

Professor Doors stood from his seat on the lumpy brown sofa, skirted the worn coffee table and, guiding the elderly woman with a gentle hand at the small of her back, followed the girl up the stairs. Casting a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, the Headmaster silently bade Draco to follow. It was unnecessary. The young blonde was already following closely behind him, a wide, sadistic grin plastered on his face.

Draco could feel the fury and anxiety rolling down the hall in palpable waves. Without even having to exert himself, he'd already been able to cause the Muggle an undue amount of stress. He could imagine her running around in a tizzy, trying to fend off his blighter of an eagle owl, a cat hissing in the corner of squalid quarters.

Oh, he wouldn't miss this for the world.


End file.
